


Primigenial

by Broken_Clover



Category: Guilty Gear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21975142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: Sol meets up with an old friend on a cold winter night
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Primigenial

Nuclear streetlamps illuminated circular fragments of the road. He hadn’t even seen those back before everything started. In spite of it all, humanity never seemed to stop moving forward.

Heavy, crunching footsteps were the only noise accompanying the quiet hum of the lights. All the cars were long-past gone, most sensible people already home and tucked up warm in their beds, away from the darkness and cold of a December’s night. 

The thin wisp of a cigarette twined between falling snowflakes. He was amazed that he was still able to get them. There were differences, of course, synthetic replicas that imitated the pleasure of nicotine without decaying teeth or blackening lungs (so they claimed, at least. Sol didn’t buy it for a second.) but cancer had never been a concern for him. It’d be a much too easy way to die, and it seemed like ‘easy’ wasn’t the path that his life tended to take.

It was nice to be in a quieter area, at least. Cities, in any form, were always noisy and bustling. Suburbia wasn’t really his scene, either, but there were far fewer people wandering around at night, leaving the man alone with nothing but his thoughts and the wind.

A few final ashed petered out before they even reached the ground. Sol spit the stub out and crushed it under his boot. 

The snow was already covering his tracks as he walked. Maybe sometime long, long ago, he’d be grateful. But nobody would be looking for him anyway, not anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt genuine fear.

Another circle of soft yellow light was thrown down his back. Sol paused in place, reaching up to dust the snow out of his hair.

“Aren’t you cold?”

A dark shadow sat perched atop the lamppost, stone-still and hardly noticeable. Something in its posture showed elation at the sight of the old Gear.

“It’s been a while. What brings you?”

“Something about fate always just seems to pull us together.”

“All of space and time, yet we keep crashing into each other…”

The couching figure reached up and tossed off its hood, shaking off the powder that had settled on its shoulders. Long strands of hair, now more silver than gold, slipped loose and hung free, half-covering eyes that had clouded into a misty blue and a smile long-missing its genuine mirth.

“Same as it ever was, ey, Sol?”

“What are you doing up there?” He ignored the question to ask his own. 

“Sightseeing, I suppose. Not many sights to see. But where am I going in a hurry?”

“It’s cold out, y’know. I figured you’d rather be inside. You always seemed to hate the cold.”

“Well, things change.” The figure shrugged. “I once spent eight months stuck in a storage freezer, it’s hard to find things ‘cold’ nowadays. I’m used to it.”

He remained in place on the post’s spire. The metal quietly creaked from the icy wind, but he didn’t even shiver. “What have you been up to?”

“Business as usual, I guess. Always bounties to be had.”

“Heh. Dunno why I even bother. Nothing ever changes with you, don’t you get bored of it?”

“It’s good money. Nothing more to it.”

“Any more Gears?”

Sol nearly dropped the cigarette he was trying to light. Despite that, he sighed and let his shoulders slouch. “What do _you_ think?”

“Hmm...well, you’d think an old bastard like me would know a lot about the world, but...nah. Immortality and omniscience are two very different things.” The man’s shoulders bobbed with raspy laughter. “Is this really all you came for?”

“No.” 

“Then what is it?”

“I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”

“Ahh, I get it.” Overgrown fingernails tapped against a bony jaw. “You’re bored, and in need of amusement. Should have expected that. I’m good at playing that part.”

“No, you-” The Gear let out a sharp breath and leaned against the pole. “That’s not it. I just want your company. No ‘amusement.’”

“Oh. Huh.” The man seemed at a loss for words. “Hadn’t expected that. Didn’t know I was still capable of being surprised.”

Sol tilted his head up. Beyond the bright glow of the lampost and the distant, faint twinkle of red-and-green lights, the sky was a pitch-black void, with the moon hidden away beyond the clouds.

“So, what is it that you were hoping for?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Sol.

“Well, what you wanted by finding me in the first place.” The other replied. “Shooting the breeze? A drink?”

“Isn’t really something I had planned out.” He said with a shrug. “That was usually your job, wasn’t it? You talked, and I just followed along.”

The light-pole swayed with another harsh, icy wind. Sol watched the man’s tattered cloak flutter in the breeze. “So what’s with the cape? If you aren’t cold, why bother with it?”

“Oh, this? Just for looks, really. Makes it easier to move around when people can’t see your face.”

Sol scoffed, a little smirk twitching on his lip. “Really? Figured you had just decided to take after the old bird. Might’ve been off his shit, but he did have a style.”

Any warmth was blown away with the next frigid breeze. Sol could almost feel it go, and he cursed himself for it.

“I...I tried finding Raven.” The words came out strained. “I thought that finding someone else to commiserate with would make it easier. Of course, as soon as you _try_ to find the damn guy, he vanishes off the face of the earth.”

“What about I-no?”

“Witch-bitch? Ha! Well, as it turns out, when humanity makes up a new dream, the old one kinda just vanishes after a time. Only one person can have that job, and guess who that poor fuck is?”

He regretted even asking. “So. Up to anything?”

“I’ll be damned. Didn’t think you were capable of small talk. Now I’m sure of it.”

“Sure of what?”

“You’re here for a reason, Sol. More than just shooting the shit. Just tell me already, why all the effort?”

He grumbled, blowing out a mouthful of smoke. The nicotine wasn’t strong enough to do away with the headache brewing behind his eyes.

“...trying to drag me home again?”

The artificial tobacco tasted bitter on his tongue. Sol tried to focus on that instead. “So what?”

A dismayed noise came down from the top of the lamppost. “It’s not _my_ home, Sol, you know that.”

His voice grew imperceptibly softer as he gestured to the line of houses in the distance. “This used to be home. Used to be a lot more crowded, though. Lot dirtier, too. And I think they’ve changed the name a few times, now it’s, uh...Bol, Bolter-”

“Boltenbridge.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, wearing a ghost of a smile that wasn’t even remotely believable. “Boltenbridge. Used to be Cirencester. Or...was it Cheltenham?” Sol watched his smile vanish for a split-second, only to return sharper, and even more forced. “Heh, look at me. Useless old bastard, can’t even remember the name of my own home.”

“Get down from there, already.”

There was a confused pause. “Why?”

The wind hurried past again, making the pole sway. Sol watched it move, how the man didn’t even react to it. “The damn thing keeps rocking, you know it’s gonna dump your ass right on the ground at some point. You’re being reckless.”

He was met with a scoff. “You say that like it means anything anymore. Do you know the things that I've lived through?”

Some part of him wished that he didn’t have to answer. “I do. You know I do.”

Even from so high up, Sol could see the smile that split his face. He couldn’t find a word to describe the emotions he saw in it.

“...Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?”

Before Sol could move to catch him, the man lifted one leg up from his perch, and fell right off of the lamppost. Neither of them flinched at the horrific crunch that followed it a moment later. Stifling a sigh, he approached the new crater of broken concrete.

“It barely even hurt…” Even through a broken jaw, the words sounded wistful.

The Gear grabbed him by the arm and hauled him up, hardly caring for broken bones or sprains. He knew his companion didn’t, either. “You’re still a dumbass.”

“Don’t have much reason not to be. What do I really have to lose?”

Sol couldn’t think of a reply. He took a breath. “Come to bed.”

That got him a look. “So many years, and you’re still so bad at jokes…”

“It’s cold outside. Wouldn’t it be nicer to be inside on a night like this?”

“You say that like I can feel anything anymore. I just don’t think I’m meant to have those sorts of things. What use would I have for luxuries? It all fades with time. Even people. Aside from you, I guess. I’m not really much of a ‘people’ person anymore.”

“If everything is so temporary, then wouldn’t it be better to just enjoy them while you can?”

The man recoiled. “Since when were you the idealistic one?”

“Since when did _you_ become a damn shut-in? You were the one who was always trying to chat, always trying to get me to talk to other people. What happened to that?”

He seemed to have struck a nerve. There was no response, only a scowl. Sol could feel the headache brewing again.. “Weren’t you in love? Wasn’t that what all of this was for?”

“I could say the same about you, couldn’t I?” He paused. “Oh. That’s right. Where is she now?”

That finally managed to draw some ire from the ancient Gear. His expression sharpened. “Don’t fuck with me. I know you know.”

“Perhaps I do.” The reply came with a smirk. “The curse of immortality, eh, Freddie? Surprised you haven’t followed her yet. How long has it been for you?”

Sol didn’t miss a beat. “Three thousand, two-hundred and sixty-one years.”

“And you still can’t bring yourself to do it?”

“No.” He said. “I wouldn’t leave you on your own.”

A soft, slightly manic laugh echoed on the damaged stone. “Do you know how much I envy you? You have a choice. You can die. Whenever you want, you can die.”

“It’s not that simple.” Replied Sol.

“Oh, I know. It’d take a bit of firepower, haha, but you could do it. But what about me? Slit my throat, tear me open, bleed me out, and what? I’m alive and kicking again in the same afternoon.”

“Have you tried?”

“Of course I have. There’s only so much to do in an eternity.” A spark of remorse glimmered in blank eyes. “Do you...still miss her?”

Sol’s voice finally softened. “Of course I do. Every day of my life.”

“So why are you still here?”

“Immortality is a lonely thing. Wouldn’t it be better with a friend?”

That seemed to genuinely surprise the other man. “Heh. You used to smack me whenever I called you that.”

“Times change. You of all people would know that.”

“...I guess I would.” In spite of his words, he seemed unconvinced. “You keep clinging onto the memory of someone who doesn’t exist. I spent too long doing that, so why do you still waste time doing that with me?”

“It’s not the same. You’re still here.”

“Am I? I wouldn’t say I’m quite the same as I used to be. I find it so much harder to find a reason to smile. I don’t understand how it used to be so easy.”

Sol wanted to offer some kind of reassurance, but nothing came. He’d never been skilled at that sort of thing. He couldn’t even bring himself to bridge the ever-present space between them to rest a hand on his shoulder. Only a few feet separated them, a mere step or three, but it felt unbreakable, like something was holding him back that even he couldn’t push through.

“Tch. I guess everyone turns into an asshole if they live long enough.”

“I don’t think immortality makes you cruel, but it’s hard to live so long and come out sane. What’s there to do after so long? I guess on paper, there’s never ‘nothing’ to do, but it just gets so, so boring after a while. Still can’t even look at beans without wanting to throw up. Sometimes I just have them anyway, so I can make myself sick and throw them back up. It’s fun! I do it again and again and again until my stomach ulcers up and my esophagus burns through. Then I can spend the rest of the day spitting up blood! Oh, now I want to do it again…”

Sol’s attention was already elsewhere. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Wh- really?” The sudden, almost childish sense of indignation was a familiarity. “You’re ignoring me now? Serves me right for thinking you’d pay attention.”

He threw up his hands in defeat- or, rather, hand. Sol felt something click. With all his wild gesturing and moving about, one arm had always stayed hidden away.

“Your arm…”

“What about it?”

“Let me see it.”

It was easy to sense the hesitance at first. But his companion eventually obliged. He lifted the hand that had been hidden under his cloak. It was just as pale and sallow as the rest of him, at least for the parts that still had skin. Chunks of flesh had withered away, exposing the bones that lay beneath. Not a drop of blood escaped the blackened flesh. Even as lifeless as he appeared, it was positively vibrant in comparison to the dark, gnarled remains.

“I don’t know what’s happened.” A twinge of genuine fear permeated his ever-saccharine tone. “I cut it all off, and it just grows back the same. When the bits fall off on their own, they don’t grow back anymore.”

Sol didn’t even wince. He’d lived through too much to feel disgust, or to be afraid at the sight of something like that. 

A part of him recalled a distant memory, something half-faded and left unremembered for centuries. A long, long time ago, he’d been a weedy little teenager reluctantly shoved into his first high-school science class. In between three-dozen classmates, they had been assigned frogs to dissect. For all his false confidence, little Frederick had thrown up halfway through the first incision and ran out of the room, sobbing his eyes out.

Could that kid have ever imagined the sorts of things that he would see in his lifetime?

“I wonder if that’s what happened to Raven…” Sol was pulled from his thoughts by a soft voice. “Heh. If he finally fell to bits and couldn’t put himself back together.”

“Are you afraid?” He asked. “You sound tired of being alive. Wouldn’t that make you happy, if it were the case?”

“I guess? Maybe? I don’t know…” The man’s tone grew frustrated. “Living forever is a nightmarish prospect, but I can’t completely shake the fear of death, either. Is that what being human means? Being afraid of death?”

Sol shook his head. “Animals avoid danger, they know how to fear death.”

“But do they _understand_ it? Do they know what it _means?”_

“Do humans?” He replied. “For all their attempts to understand the meaning behind it all, and to stave off death as long as possible, do they really know any more about it than they did thousands of years ago? Who says there even is a reason for it at all?”

The snow was growing heavier. It formed little piles on the man’s sloped shoulders, but he was too distracted to brush them away. “I guess it doesn’t matter in the end, does it?”

Sol caught him with a melancholy expression, twisting his decaying limb around to look at how the necrotic black slowly faded into an almost-lifelike pallor. “What will happen when every part of my flesh has rotted away? Will I still be alive? Will I just be stuck in my bones, waiting for those to break apart into nothing? Nothing but my own mind to keep me company?”

He understood now. It wasn’t the pain that frightened him, or the uncertainty. It was the loneliness. The fear of facing down death or eternity all by himself.

After all this time, he was still shitty at talking. But he’d spent too much time pushing people away, he wasn’t going to be silent and brush off the only person he had left. The regrets of the past already piled up on his back, things that he couldn’t change or forget or take back. He didn’t need more. But did that mean he was doing this out of kindness, or merely alleviating his own guilt?

“Then I’ll take your bones with me. Stick ‘em in my bag. I’ll bring you everywhere I go. I’ll take you around the world. We’ll see the sights together, just like old times.”

After a moment of silence, his companion laughed softly. “That’s horrifying. Thank you. I’ll try to be a good passenger.”

Sol smirked. “Gonna use your femur as a back-scratcher and your skull as an ashtray. I’ll make sure you earn your keep for me carrying you.”

That made him laugh harder. Sol found himself laughing, too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely laughed. It was loud, even with the falling snow muffling it, but it felt good.

It still stung when the moment of happiness petered out. Thousands of years, and that’s how it seemed it had always been. Little snippets of joy that faded with time. Maybe, though, all the monotony and sadness made those rare moments all the sweeter.

Pale eyes looked directly into his. Though they still remained vacant and dull, Sol could almost swear that there was a little twinkle of something warmer deep inside of them. Something he hadn’t seen in centuries. Something that reminded him of fond memories.

“So why tonight, of all nights? Why did you come to see me now?”

“It’s Christmas, don’t you know? People still like spending time with their loved ones.”

“But I don’t have any. So why would it mean anything to someone like me?”

“You still have me.” Sol said. “Would that be enough for one night?”

They were both quiet. All that could be heard was the snow as it continued to fall, and the quiet buzz of the lamppost.

And, noiselessly, he watched the other man break the distance between the two of them. He sighed, burying his head in the crook of the Gear’s neck and wrapping his bony arms as far around his back as he could.

“...I forgot how warm you were.”

Sol let a hand rest against his back. “It’s cold out. Why don’t we head inside?”

No answer. Fingers dug into his jacket, trembling so hard that he worried if they’d shatter into pieces.

“I m-missed you, g-god dammit, I missed you so much-”

“It’s okay.” He replied, feeling something in his chest. “I…”

The other man was little more than skin and bones. It didn’t take Sol any effort to hoist him off of his feet and hold him close. He felt his companion shiver in the cold, burrowing against him. And for some reason, Sol found himself smiling.

“Let’s go home.”

The snow continued to fall as they walked. Two pairs of footprints wound around the lamppost, but only one trailed off into the darkness.

“...Happy birthday, Axl.”


End file.
